Playing to Win
by QuasiOuster
Summary: AU Non-zombie. After Daryl and Michonne encounter each other on the road, a favor turns into a series of challenges between the two.
1. 300 Dollars

_**Author's Note: I do not own any part of The Walking Dead franchise and no profit is being gained from this work.**_

_**Here's another AU, non-zombie diversion. I wrote this in a few days as a break while my other stories are getting some beta love. This won't be too long, maybe 7 or 8 chapters but it was fun to write, especially the narrative aspects I don't use too often and some of the experimental stuff that I played around with. Please forgive its rough edges and my complete lack of knowledge of both baseball and cars. **__**No real spoilers, although this uses more of TV Michonne's backstory than comic Michonne's, partly to keep my two real world AU's straight in my head.**_

_**I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading! Drop me a review if you're inclined. **_

* * *

**Chapter One**

Michonne groaned as she saw the "Check Engine" light flash accusingly at her from across the dash. She could also detect something not quite right going on under her hood, but 50 miles from her house, she was powerless to do anything about it. The finish line was so close and it was looking more and more like even limping the rest of the way wouldn't be possible.

Pulling over, she let the car to idle just in case turning it off meant that it wouldn't start up again. She punched instructions into her phone and pulled up car mechanics within a five-mile radius. Only one result returned: D+D Auto Body Shop.

She was hesitant. This last leg of her trip brought her relatively close to Atlanta but it wasn't an area that she ever wanted to find herself stranded in. It was just far out enough to cater to the hicks and rednecks that would have a serious problem with the likes of a dreaded black woman strolling about town.

Looking through the windshield and hoping she had only imagined the smoke coming from her engine area, she sighed and accepted that she really didn't have a choice in the matter.

Michonne turned back onto the road and followed the GPS instructions on her phone until she came to a deserted looking pit stop at the end of a short, local turnoff. It was a modest setup with an enclosed garage area and attached office. Dusty windows didn't reveal any movement inside but the repair area was open and empty. As remote as the place seemed, it surprised her that her map even picked it up. Not seeing any immediate activity when she rolled down the window, she was afraid that no one was there and then she'd end up stuck in this tucked away traveler's trap just waiting for a hate crime to sneak up on her.

She picked up her phone and contemplated her least desirable option, the only one left for her really. But desperate times, desperate measures. She took in a deep breath.

Before she could dial her ex-husband's number, a door opened on the side of the building and a sandy-haired, grizzled man emerged. His expression was far from friendly but she didn't sense any hostility to his demeanor, more like slight annoyance and curiosity. She both rejoiced at and dreaded how this encounter was going to turn out. Keeping her engine running, she stepped out of her car and watched for his reaction to her, surprised to get not much of one as he approached the rest of the way.

"I'm afraid to turn it off," she explained. "If I do, I'm not sure it'll start up again."

The man put his hand on the hood of her car and listened for a moment. "Probably so. Go ahead though cause you aint gettin' far no way with it soundin' like this."

And that was that. No introduction, no histrionics. The both of them were all business.

She reached in and shut off her car, wincing at the grinding sound it made before dropping off into silence.

The man whistled. "Yeah, that don't sound right, for sure." She popped the hood and he immediately looked inside. Not wanting to get in his way, she leaned against the car and took in her surroundings.

There were a few cars in various states of repair parked on the other side of the building and a couple of motorcycles tucked into the garage area. Despite the rustic nature of the business, things seemed surprisingly ordered. There wasn't a lot of random junk lying around, something she always associated with these kinds of places. Turning towards the tree line, she noticed that when you put aside the stress of being stranded out here, it was actually quite beautiful. The greenery and wildlife swayed in the breeze and she could see a couple of trails leading who knows where. Instead of the sounds of urban life or suburban activity, the only noises she picked up were birds chirping and animals scurrying to and fro.

"It's nice out here," she commented at the man's side. He seemed thoroughly occupied by whatever was going on in the bowels of her engine block but he grunted an assent. Not much of a conversationalist, she thought. That was okay; neither was she.

Finally, he popped back out and walked over to the garage area to grab some tools. When he returned, it was back under her hood, taking things apart. "What you doin' out in these parts anyway?"

Her first reaction was to get defensive about the question but it was kind of a reasonable one. It was off-season for any type of recreational activity and there'd hardly been anyone about on the road due to the odd timing of her trip. And there wasn't any malice in his inquiry, only casual interest.

Perhaps he was more of a conversationalist than she'd first given him credit for.

Still, she couldn't help but challenge any assumptions he had about her, more out of instinct than anything personal. "Why? Not used to seeing someone like me in your neighborhood?"

The mechanic turned his head to her, scrutinizing her as if for the first time. "Aint used to seein' nobody I don't know out here. Don't bother me none. Work is work." He turned back to his tinkering on her car. "'Sides, whatever's goin' on with your car's a damn sight better than the game I was watchin'."

Michonne liked his matter-of-fact manner. It put her at ease about the situation. Usually in scenarios like these, mechanics would be doing their best to take advantage of a woman and, with the added country factor, she didn't think her urban savvy would win any points either. But the man didn't seem to care one way or another.

And his last comment amused her as much as it saddened. "Braves not doing so well I take it?"

The man groused in disgust which was answer enough. "Bad don't even cover it. Had me rootin' for the Red Sox by the third inning."

"Ouch." She smiled sympathetically, understanding all too well the pain of being a Braves fan. "Actually, I'm on my way back from a camping trip," she supplied, figuring it wouldn't hurt to answer his question honestly. That seemed to surprise him as he indulged in another inquisitive scan of her. "Black people do go camping, you know." She grinned and, to her delight, he returned it for a moment. Compared to his initial gruff impression, it was a very nice look on him.

"Aint that," he replied, leaning up. "Most folks aint doin' much camping yet. Too cold."

"Why do you think we went? It was good to get in a good trip before all the riff raff start trickling in."

His grin returned and he nodded. "Good call." He wiped his dirty hands on his already soiled trousers. "Your transmission needs flushin', filters replaced, the whole treatment. If you got some fancy insurance, you can have it towed to wherever you want and get somebody else to take care of it. Or I can do it for ya for a couple hundred bucks, plus parts and supplies. So you'll be lookin' at about a $400 fix. Won't have it done till tomorrow, though, if I can get all the stuff I need tonight."

"Shit," she said.

"Yeah," he agreed.

There wasn't any question that she'd have him take care of the fixing. He didn't strike her as the kind of guy to do a whole lot of bullshiting just to make a dollar.

She sighed. "It's not the cost. That sounds reasonable and, honestly, I'm surprised that's the only problem with this old thing. I'm just dreading the request to get my, uh, friend to pick me up from out here. I'm not going to hear the end of it." All her close friends were similarly out of town, leaving her ex-husband as the only available source for a ride. And he could be a total asshole sometimes, both when she most and least expected it. She did not want to get into it with him if she could help it.

The man seemed amused by her reaction and he pretty much pegged the situation. "Ex, huh? Well, I can give you a lift closer to your neck 'a the woods if you want. Gotta pick up some supplies anyway. And for the record, that aint the only thing wrong with your car, I just figured you only cared about the worst problem."

Michonne laughed. "How refreshing. I think I'll take you up on that offer, Mr…"

"Just Daryl," he responded, not offering a hand and returning to the engine to clean up what he'd taken apart. As he was distracted, she took in his toned arms and lithe body even under the tattered, baggy clothes he was wearing, cut off sleeves and all. He was a good ole boy alright but at least he was a cute one.

When he turned towards her again, she tried to look normal as if she wasn't just checking him out. The furrow to his brow led her to believe she hadn't been as sly as she would have liked. It was difficult to know how to take that. After a few awkward seconds, he appeared to let the matter go. "Give me five minutes and we can roll, Ms…" he mirrored, head propped up to meet her gaze and sporting that adorable grin again.

"Just Michonne. Pleased to meet you." And she was, given his straight-forward charm. Quite pleased, indeed.

TBC …


	2. Rolling

**Chapter Two**

Daryl had a strange impulse to size her up but he had to pay attention to the road.

Not too long ago, he'd been bored out of his mind, watching the shop while Merle slept off his bender. He was pissed that his brother had ducked out of work again. Yet it was also nice not having to put up with his shit for an afternoon too. Business had been slow but steady. It would probably pick up in a month or two when folks did more hauling and traveling for the summer.

He definitely hadn't been expecting anyone to pull into the place on a late Friday afternoon, and certainly not anyone like her.

The first thing he'd noticed was her eyes, so direct and intense. She made it clear without even trying that she wasn't one to mess with. That was fine by him. He didn't bother figuring out much else about her and instead focused on her car, which, frankly, had seen better days. Fortunately for her, there was nothing major wrong with it that he couldn't get to pretty quickly. He and Merle only had a couple of things that needed attention over the next couple of days and both were waiting on parts to be delivered from one of their vendors.

As she moved her gear into the back of his truck, seemingly relieved to rely on a total stranger rather than have to call her ex, he took his time getting another look at her. If he was going to be in her company for as long as it took to get to the next town over, he wanted to know what he was dealing with. Except instead of focusing on whether she was full of shit or not, he noticed other things about her: the lines to her body in fitted cargo pants and boots, a modest tank top under a tight leather vest that somehow made the richness of her complexion stand out. Her hair was pulled up and he found it difficult not to admire the angles to her neck and shoulders and the healthy fullness of her cheeks. He'd caught her likewise sizing him up, which kind of pissed him off, so it was only fair he get his moment too.

She was a good looking woman, even if she wasn't exactly his type, nor him hers probably. City girl like that didn't have much cause to dabble out here in the country if she didn't have to and he definitely wasn't interested in babysitting some prissy debutante for no amount of tail.

It was a good thing Merle hadn't been around since he probably would have started some shit and gotten them into more trouble than it was worth. He always had some asshole thing to say about strangers, especially if he could get in a racist or sexist dig, or both—unless he was looking for a favor. Daryl played along but he wasn't much for that kind of talk. As far as he was concerned, if you come at him square, he'd do the same.

They rode in silence for a while, the soft strains of the radio drifting between them. They had the windows down to catch the breeze of the drive rather than trap themselves in a cold, air-conditioned cab. The wind flowed around them but never in a way that bothered too much. After checking her phone, the woman—Michonne—stared out at the scenery with what looked like genuine interest in the backroads he favored over the main thoroughfare.

Finally, she turned to him and said, "I haven't spent much time in this part of the county. Did you grow up here?"

"Born and raised," he confirmed. "Me and my brother."

"Is he the other 'D'?" There was a spark to her eye as she asked and he couldn't restrain the stab of pleasure her pretty smile conjured.

"Actually, that's the name that came with the place," he replied, lips stretching into a smirk. "We're both Dixons so I guess that works too."

"So it's Daryl Dixon, then. It does work." There was a pleasing warmth to her voice as she joked with him. "Are you sure about dropping my car off to me tomorrow? I don't want it to be an inconvenience."

"Aint no such thing as inconvenience when you're payin' me to do it." They both chuckled at that. For an extra $75, Daryl had agreed to attach her car to his tow truck when it was done and return it to her. She said it would have cost her twice that amount for the trouble, even with her insurance, and it saved her sanity by not involving her ex in the situation. As it was now, she planned on getting a cab from Daryl's drop-off point and the ex would be none the wiser.

"Awfully trustin' of you though." It wasn't Daryl's business, really, as long as he got his money. It didn't stop him from being curious, maybe a little wary too as was his nature.

Michonne didn't seem to mind. "Maybe," she said with a shrug. "But you strike me as a forthright kind of guy." He glanced over at her to confirm that she was kidding but she seemed dead serious. That was a first for him. He couldn't remember ever being called anything but terms that implied suspicion.

Her next question was more his speed. "Is there a reason I shouldn't trust you?" Those intense eyes of hers caught his attention yet again. She was a damn force to be reckoned with, he'd give her that, even if she didn't scare him so much as keep him on his guard.

Daryl shrugged, in turn. "No more reason than anybody else, I suppose."

She nodded in agreement. "Also, you have a high star-rating on Yelp."

"Sounds like some nonsense you talkin'. What the hell does that mean?"

She seemed unphased by his lack of knowledge. "Just this thing on the internet. Basically, it implies that you're trustworthy."

Daryl didn't like the sound of that but he wasn't going to waste any breath on her brainy foolishness. Instead he decided to change the subject. It was funny because normally, he'd opt to ride in silence but he was strangely intrigued by her. He propped his arm up onto the open window and scratched at his shaggy facial hair.

"What y'all do out in the woods on your camping trip 'sides freeze your asses off?"

Michonne laughed and Daryl decided she had a good one, enthusiastic but soft and with a sincerity that told him she wasn't faking it. "We did do that. It wasn't too bad though. There was a group of us, some folks went hunting, some folks went fishing and the rest of us went hiking."

"City-girl like you weren't scared 'a the wild animals and poisonous shit?" The glare she sent him let him know he best not push his luck with her. Mostly he was impressed by how offended she seemed that he'd insulted her outdoorsy skills. Maybe he'd pegged her wrong.

They spent the rest of the drive talking about fishing and hunting. Turns out she wasn't as prissy as he thought with the way she joked about throwing down on some deer or the beauty of smoking a mess of fish you caught by your own hand. She reached her limit though when he moved on to roasting squirrels and snakes. That kind of disdain would have usually bothered him, but on her it was cute.

Before they knew it, he was pulling into the parking lot of the shopping area where they'd part ways. They unloaded her gear near the automotive store he needed and he lingered as she called a cab to come pick her up. Daryl shuffled a bit, trying to decide if he should wait with her or go about his business. She wasn't his responsibility beyond giving her a ride here and fixing her car. Yet he felt like he shouldn't just leave her to find her way on her own.

"You gon' be alright?" She looked up from where she stood reorganizing her backpack and he was struck by how strong she seemed in that moment, not some fairytale damsel in distress but a woman who knew how to handle her own.

Then she smiled at him and something tightened in his stomach. He pushed it down. There was no way he was going to go _there_ with a woman like her. She wasn't anything like his usual hookups, not to mention way out of his league judging by the way she talked and carried herself.

"I'll be fine. I don't want to keep you." It didn't quite come across as a dismissal but it was final. He shrugged. If she was cool with the situation then he could be too. Best to just forget about her until he returned her car and got his payment.

Without saying another word, he nodded and headed towards the store to get his supplies.

Thirty minutes later, he came back out loaded up with a bunch of stuff he needed for Michonne's fix and then some. The first thing he did was check the area where he'd left her to see if she got out okay. He frowned seeing her sitting atop her sleeping bag reading a book. He dumped his stuff in the back of his truck and strolled over to where she sat.

"You plannin' another camping trip tonight out here?" He caught a peek of her grin and tried to ignore the satisfaction of eliciting it.

"Only temporarily. Cabs are slow to come by in these parts apparently. They're going to call me back when they have one available."

Without thinking on it, Daryl rolled his eyes and offered a hand to her. She eyed him up and down and then took it, letting him pull her to her feet. Her hands were rougher than he thought they'd be but also soft in that way a woman's skin can get. The unexpected lure of the sensation had him dropping her fingers like they were on fire as soon as she found her footing.

He tossed his head towards his truck and picked up her oversized backpack and cooler. "Come on then. Let's go. Can't have you sittin' out here like you're lookin' for work." Her reproachful scowl succeeded in making him feel badly about the crack and he recoiled a little at her disapproval. He bit at his lip and stepped back. "I'm just sayin', I can't be leavin' you out here like this. It aint gentlemanly."

That mesmerizing smirk returned and Daryl relaxed a bit for seeing it. "Well, you do strike me as a gentleman, Daryl Dixon." She gathered the rest of her stuff and followed him across the parking lot. "Thank you," she said quietly at his side.

He grunted a noncommittal response and turned away so she wouldn't catch the heat to his face. He had no idea when he'd become this 'good guy' but it felt like the right thing to do. She needed a hand and he didn't mind giving it to her and had the time. That's all that it was, really, and there was no need to make a big deal out of it he told himself.

They loaded the truck up again with her gear and got on their way, the soft sounds of the radio continuing to sooth the comfortable silence between them.

TBC ...


	3. The Idiot Kings

**Chapter Three**

Michonne was angry enough to scream.

Her t-shirt was soaking wet along with most of the floor she was sitting on. Miscellaneous tools and hardware were scattered around her. When she heard the doorbell ring, she took a calming breath and tried to quash the impulse to throw something across the room. Cursing to herself, she carefully scrambled to her feet and grumbled at her sorry state as she walked gingerly to her front door.

Daryl Dixon's expression as she opened the door was priceless and that instantly put her in a better mood.

In shock, he slowly took in her drenched shirt sticking to her skin and leaving very little to the imagination. But when he registered what he was looking at—and how he was looking at it—he immediately diverted his eyes and turned about three shades of red for daring to ogle what was essentially right in front of his face.

"Your timing is excellent, Dixon. You've managed to yet again catch me at my worst."

He peeked back over at her and grinned a little. "All I'm tryin' to do is drop your damn car off and this is what I gotta deal with?" He dangled her keys at her, eyes downward.

"Oh, come on, it's not like I'm indecent." Secretly, she appreciated his tact and it really could have been worse. She was at least wearing a bra, albeit a lacy purple one that could be seen clearly through her now translucent top. "I woke up this morning to my kitchen sink acting up. I thought I could fix it myself but it's not turning out like I thought." She reached out and grabbed her keys. At the contact, Daryl finally turned his gaze to her, cautious but amused.

"Car's workin' though. Transmission's good now and I changed out your oil and fluids, checked your tires and all that. Replaced a couple 'a spark plugs while I was at it. Might need your brakes inspected pretty soon though, that battery too. And those tires …"

Michonne sighed. "Yeah, I know, I know." Daryl shrugged as if not caring that they both knew her car was kind of a piece of crap. She opened the door wider. "Come in for a sec so I can get you your money." He reluctantly followed her, although he didn't protest. In fact, he seemed kind of curious after dropping her off in front of the house the night before.

"Nice place," he said, looking around a bit.

Smiling at him over her shoulder, she glanced at the items that caught his eye, mostly the humongous television in her den. "Thanks. I haven't been here long. But my ex kept the apartment in Downtown Atlanta so I thought a change of pace would be nice." Daryl didn't inquire further on that.

She led him towards the kitchen area where she'd left her purse and Daryl burst into laughter as soon as he saw the mess she created.

"Damn, woman! Why didn't you call a plumber?" He walked over to where the doors underneath the sink stood open, careful to avoid the puddle pooled at the base.

"Shut up," she said, laughing along with him while digging for her wallet and leafing through a wad of cash. As she counted, she heard him shuffling around and when she turned around, he was kneeling down trying to get a closer look. "Careful of the water," she warned automatically.

"Seen worse than that every day at the garage. He grabbed a couple of her tools and got on his back to fiddle with the pipes himself.

Michonne shook her head, thinking that some men just couldn't stand to walk past a home repair, although she was grateful for the help. Placing money on the table for the work he did on her car, she wandered over and kneeled down to get a better look at what he was doing.

"What happened to turning the water off before you got to diggin' around under here? That's like Plumbing 101." The gruffness to his words came across as more benignly chastising than mean, now that she'd grown accustomed to his tone.

Lowering to the damp ground herself—she was already soaked after all—she tucked her legs underneath her and watched him work. "I thought I did turn it off. Something must be wrong with the valve." Daryl gave that grunt of acknowledgment that she'd heard a few times over the past day. "And I didn't call a plumber because the only one I know is my ex-boyfriend's cousin and I don't trust being in the same room as him."

She saw Daryl frown. "Gotta keep safe." Then his lips turned up into a grin. "Can't just let any ole fool up in your house."

Michonne laughed again and nudged him in the leg. "That's true. Still, I don't think there's any risk of you trying to grab my ass which, in turn, reduces the chance of me having to kick your balls into your throat.

Daryl chuckled at that. "Well, alright." He scooted out from under the sink for a moment and pointed to a tool laying off to the side. "Remind me to stay off your bad side," he added with a twinkle to his eye as she handed him the larger wrench. He lowered himself back down and continued to poke around. He asked her a few questions about what was wrong with the drain, which she answered to his satisfaction. She then asked a few questions about what he was doing to fix it to which he responded for her to 'watch and learn.'

Two clicks and bang after he said that, Michonne heard a familiar gush and Daryl's shocked yelp as he scrambled to escape the shower of cold water. "Son of a bitch," he shouted. He slid out and turned around to reach in and twist the water valve until the flow stopped.

Neither spoke as they took in the scene, Daryl dripping water along his entire top half, hair plastered to his head and surly expression clouding his face. Michonne continued to sit at his side, still damp from her earlier mishap and now a little more so from the spray Daryl unleashed.

"Told you something was wrong with it," she said. It was useless to try and suppress either her teasing sarcasm or her smug delight.

He glared but that only made Michonne laugh once more. She added, "We do make a pair, the two of us." Daryl flailed his arms to flick the excess water off of him and then directed the motion towards her, sprinkling even more stray moisture her way. Flinching at the mist, Michonne continued to snicker at him. "That wasn't nice."

"Neither is laughin' at me when I'm tryin' to do you a favor," he said, now a little more relaxed about the situation, maybe because he realized how ridiculous they both looked.

Michonne's chagrin was modest but genuine. "I'll get you a towel." She gave him a once over and added, "and a spare shirt." Daryl nodded and squeezed out his worn-in button down before returning to the sink's inner workings. He probably figured since he was already wet, he may as well finish what he started.

When she returned with the promised items, Daryl had reemerged from the sink area and had gathered her tools into a pile. He was now on his feet and trying to wring the water from his slacks. Frustrated, he took hold of his dripping wet shirt and slipped it off, letting it fall with a messy flop onto the floor.

Michonne almost forgot to breath. From the tattoos to the defined hardness of his chest and arms, the man was a damn beautiful sight to be standing topless in the middle of her kitchen on a Saturday afternoon, wet pants clinging nicely to his hips.

She did her best not to stare and failed miserably.

Noticing her return, Daryl started acting particularly uncomfortable, posturing as if she would attack. Sensing his discomfort, Michonne didn't attempt to advance and simply held out the towel and the spare shirt she found. Daryl stepped forward and took both, immediately wrapping the towel around his shoulders. In the meantime, she'd changed her shirt as well after seeing how nervous her provocative state of dress made him before.

"Thanks," he muttered, retreating and holding up the end of the towel to dry his hair. Once he'd shuffled right up to the counter, he removed the towel from his shoulders and attempted to absorb the extra moisture from his pants. The air around them was tense and Daryl was making a big effort to keep his back to her. Michonne felt bad that he was so stressed out all of a sudden. Before she had a chance to worry about it further, the doorbell rang and she took the opportunity to give the man a bit of privacy.

When she returned to the kitchen, he seemed calmer, now clad in the spare white t-shirt she'd found in her closet. He looked good in it as she'd expected but she got the sense that he wasn't used to walking around in something so snug.

He tracked her approach, that guarded intent remaining even though he'd covered himself. But then the playfulness returned to his expression. "You gon' eat all that by yourself?" He pointed to the enormous pizza she'd ordered before he arrived in a fit of frustration over her busted kitchen pipes. "Sink's fixed by the way. You're welcome."

"Thank you, then. Again," she answered with mock curtness. "And getting the largest pizza size possible is actually the most efficient way to order. I read it on the internet so it must be true." She paused, considering the mostly stoic man who'd twice come to her rescue. "Besides, I'm not going to eat this by myself if you have some too. It's the least I can do." She turned to the table behind her and reached for the pile of cash after setting the pizza box down. "Well, that and pay you for fixing my car, of course." She passed the money over to him and watched him fold it and pocket it without counting. She'd put extra in there for his trouble anyway.

Daryl hadn't said anything about the offer so she figured he was trying to find some way to get out of it. "No pressure. You're welcome to be done with me and be on your way. I really have been nothing but trouble since my crappy car sputtered into your life."

Biting his lip, an adorable display of nerves on him, he waved her off. "Naw, I aint one to turn down a free meal." He walked over to the table and peeked into the box, nodding in approval at her topping choices. "Question is whether you got the beer to go along with it."

She elbowed him in the arm. "Who do you think you're dealing with?" She walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of a local brew, flipping off the caps with an opener she pulled from the drawer next to it. Handing him one of the bottles, she threw him some paper towels and moved the box onto the coffee table in the den. Daryl followed behind her, uncertain but compliant. His eyes lit up when he saw her flick on her beautiful television though.

"What are you waiting for? The sink's fixed, you're done with work for the day, my car's back where it belongs and the game's just started." She flipped over a few channels until she landed on what was indeed a baseball game in full swing.

Strolling all the way in, Daryl joined her at the couch and placed the towel he still carried onto the cushions before sitting down. They both grabbed a slice, propped their feet up and settled in for some well-earned relaxation.

TBC ...

* * *

_**AN: The pizza thing is kinda true. It said so on Planet Money **_**; )**


	4. Misinformed

**Chapter Four**

Daryl pulled up in front of Michonne's house and saw her junker parked next to a sleek looking SUV. He gave it a once over as he made his way to her front door. It was ridiculous how nervous he was about seeing her again and he was a little disgusted at himself for the weakness of it.

It had been a few months since they'd met over her piece of shit car that had broken down up the road from his shop. By chance, she'd stumbled onto his radar and barely a day later they'd ended up sharing some beer and pizza over a baseball game like old friends. He'd been skeptical about dealing with her at first glance, thinking that she'd write him off as some hick who she'd only be willing to talk to because she needed something from him. Instead, he'd ended up finding a bona fide partner in crime.

After that afternoon, she'd text him some funny thing about baseball scores or how crappy her car was. They always made him laugh. He'd in turn tease her by texting when he was out enjoying the great outdoors instead of stuck in the city like she was. A couple of times, she'd begged him to come over and watch a baseball game with her and it wasn't like he could resist with that sweet setup she had at her house. He'd met a couple of her friends that way, Andrea and T-Dog and Glenn.

Recently, she'd taken to calling every now and then because she'd finally decided to replace her car with something less likely to die on her at any moment. She considered him her personal consultant. Although he'd pretend to be grumpy about it, he was flattered by her reliance on him since it wasn't like he got that a lot. When it came to their business, Merle was always running the show so it was nice to have this thing going on with Michonne that his brother didn't know anything about and couldn't take from him. In exchange, she'd offered to look over some vendor contracts for him since, on top of being handy at a campsite, she was also some fancy lawyer. She'd even hooked him up with a friend of hers that helped him and Merle get an extension on their taxes until they could work out what needed to be done with them.

The entire sequence of events brought him to her house on another Saturday afternoon. She'd gotten around to choosing a car, presumably the SUV in the driveway, and she wanted him to check it out before she bought it. The guy selling it on Craigslist was willing to let her keep it for the weekend for that purpose. She'd offered to drive it out to him but he wasn't wild about seeing her again with Merle underfoot, probably waiting to insult her before taking over something he'd come to look forward to. It meant something to him to be able to help Michonne out. So he told her to just stay put and he'd come to her.

When Michonne opened the door, he was prepared to pop off some smart-ass remark in greeting but the image that met him stopped him in his tracks.

She'd told him that she had a kid so it wasn't a surprise to see her with one. It's just that he hadn't been expecting it. And he hadn't expected it to make her look so adorable, all frazzled and covered in paint. He truly believed that she was the kind of woman who could scare the hell out of anyone with her silent intensity. But it was funny that he only ever saw her at her most vulnerable and human.

"Hey Daryl," she said, ushering him inside. "It's been crazy here and I didn't get a chance to text you about it."

"No problem," Daryl said. Like he cared that she was busy being a mom or that she looked like she'd gone five rounds at paintball. Watching her set Andre on the kitchen counter to try and clean him up, he figured he kind of liked seeing this side of her.

He felt a little bad for her stressed out state though. She was distracted with the kid, but she continued trying to explain the situation to him. "His dad was supposed to pick him up over two hours ago. I always love the extra time with him but we got a little out of control with playtime."

"I see that," he grinned, and she flashed him that sarcastic scowl he'd come to associate with her.

"Anyway, if you want to get started checking out the car, the keys are on the table over there." She nodded towards the kitchen table that did indeed hold the keys on top of a stack of bills.

"I know that aint what I think it is," he sassed. They'd been arguing back and forth about her wanting to pay him for his work but as far as Daryl was concerned, he was just doing a favor for a friend who'd compensate him with further helpings of free pizza and beer.

Michonne sighed. "Just take it, please. At least for gas money." Daryl walked over, lifting the keys and grabbing the stack of cash along with it. When he rolled up the money in his palm, he saw her smile at the triumph and turn back to cleaning up her son. But instead of heading back out the front door, he walked up behind her.

"No," he responded at her shoulder, staunch and final.

He pushed the folded up bills into her back pocket while her hands were too occupied to protest, careful not to grope her in the process. He wanted to prove a point, not further piss her off, no matter how tempting he found her gorgeous ass.

"You got it all wrong Michonne. A favor's a favor." Andre thought their bickering was hilarious and broke out in laughter as he clapped his paint smeared hands. "See, even the kid's got my back on this."

"He's three," Michonne said, unimpressed.

"Aint too young to recognize sense, apparently." He backed up and retreated from the kitchen to go get started looking over the car.

Twenty minutes later, Michonne came out to check on him, Andre at her hip and disposition markedly improved. Both she and the kid had changed clothes with only a few small traces of the trouble they'd gotten into earlier. Michonne still had a little paint in her hair while Andre's shoes sported a smear of bright green that matched the streaks that only recently adorned his chubby cheek.

"How's it looking, Dixon?" She joined him where he stood assessing the engine, poking around at the various connectors, valves and belts that were likely to be a problem on cars like these.

He turned to her and stopped himself from grinning at how fascinated the little boy seemed by all of the parts under the hood. His little eyes were wide and he couldn't focus on any one thing, probably itching to get his little toddler hands on all of it.

"So far, so good. "There's a couple 'a things I wanna get a closer look at but nothin' major. I'll take it for a run around the block too just in case."

Michonne nodded. "Be my guest." Andre wiggled in her arms and reached out towards the engine block. "No Peanut, you can't get into that," Michonne scolded, lightly.

"Won't do no harm lettin' him get a closer look. He aint too young to learn him a thing or two. I was about his age when I started watching my dad fiddle around with his car when he wasn't sittin' around watching TV or off cuttin' up somewhere."

"Is that who taught you all about cars?"

"He got me started but it's not like he had the patience to teach me or my brother much 'a nothin'. I kinda picked up this and that wherever I could." He gestured for her to come closer and started pointing out different parts of the engine in a very matter-of-fact voice to the small child. The kid listened attentively, fascinated by Daryl's explanations even though he surely didn't understand much of it. But he would repeat a word back to him as best he could when asked by either him or his mom. Daryl had fun with it since the little boy seemed genuinely enthralled and Michonne found some enjoyment in it as well.

Behind them, the sound of a car pulling up in back of Daryl's truck caught their attention and they both turned to look over their shoulder. Daryl noticed a tall, thin man emerge, looking hurried and stressed. He was apologizing before he even reached the path leading to the front door.

"I know I'm late and I'm sorry. I got here as soon as I could." He spared Daryl a cursory glance, narrowing his eyes at the man before dismissing his presence and focusing on Michonne's scowl of disapproval. Andre smiled at who Daryl assumed was his dad and pointed to the car as if wanting to explain all the new things Daryl had taught him. He waved his tiny hands to get him to come over and see for himself. Daryl didn't care one way or the other but the guy didn't seem all that interested anyway.

Instead, Michonne flashed Daryl a put-upon expression and turned to lead the man inside the house. When they reemerged five minutes later, it was with a couple of bags and the man now carrying Andre to the car. Reaching for his mother, he heard the man trying to calm the child down as Michonne planted kisses on the kid's straining hands. She looked distressed too but by the time the group had reached the man's car, Andre had quieted down and allowed himself to be strapped into the backseat. A few tense words were exchanged between the adults and the man drove off with Michonne staring after them. Slowly, she returned to Daryl's side.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

She sighed. "Yeah. It's just always hard to let go. He'll be fine with his dad though. Or at least that's what I tell myself."

"It's nice that you'll miss him," Daryl added absently, leaning back under the hood. It was a hell of a lot more than his parents had done for him usually. He could feel her staring at him at what his admission implied but she didn't inquire further. Then Daryl decided that what they both needed was a distraction.

With an abrupt and practiced motion, he lowered the hood and pushed her into the passenger side of the car so they could take it for a test drive. Over the next fifteen minutes, they drove around her neighborhood and he asked her a few more questions about the car in between poking good-natured fun at her suburban neighborhood. As the time passed, he sensed her relax as she distanced herself from her son's departure. By the time they'd returned to her house, she was mostly back to her old ways, making fun of his country sensibilities and trying to squeeze more favors out of him. It made him feel useful that he could help take her mind off her worries for a bit.

He followed her back into the house feeling positive about her potential purchase. "I'd say it's a good buy. It's got a lot 'a miles on it but the parts are decent. You aint lookin' at any major replacements, 'cept maybe the tires which won't be right away no way."

"Thanks for doing this Daryl. It's a relief to have someone at my back that I trust on this." He tried to stop his nervous reaction to her praise, knowing she'd see it in his face and tease him for it. It made him uncomfortable but not in the way he was used to feeling about that kind of attention. It was more like he felt all flustered by her confidence in him. "Pizza?" Her eyes sparked as she chose to ignore his shy behavior.

"This time get both pepperoni and sausage," he demanded without missing a beat. She nodded and grabbed her phone.

Forty-five minutes later, they were sitting around watching the game, a couple of beers to go along with their meal. They ate and smack-talked and then got another round to keep the evening festive. The baseball game ended in terrible fashion, as usual, and they flipped channels until finding a tolerable movie. They once again made themselves comfortable in front of the TV.

An hour into it, Daryl was annoyed. "I can't believe I let you talk me into watchin' this. It aint even so bad it's good. It's just bad."

Michonne chuckled, a little sloppy for the alcohol running through her system. It was a change from her normal controlled demeanor and it was always fun to see her acting silly.

"It's not that bad, Daryl," she said, poking him in the thigh with her knee.

He hadn't noticed how close she was until now and wondered when she'd gotten so dangerously near. Now that he'd picked up on it, it was as if he could feel the heat coming off of her, bare shoulders mere inches from his. She was wearing another one of those tank tops that left so much of her exposed, tempting him into testing if her skin really felt as smooth as it looked.

He couldn't think like that though. They were friends and she'd beat his ass for treating her like a piece of meat.

Daryl shook himself out of those thoughts and returned to complaining about the bad movie. "It don't make no sense why they're even in that situation."

Michonne shrugged. "I don't know, sometimes you just act without thinking because all your instincts are screaming for you to do something and then, bam, everything gets all crazy." He turned to her and caught a glimpse of a smile at the corner of her mouth. It was intriguing.

"I get that," he continued "but I just don't understand why they gotta take it that far. I mean, it's gon' pay off at the end 'cause it's a movie but real life aint like that."

"Exactly," she said, a pretty flush to her cheek. "It's fantasy. But it reminds us that sometimes we have to go for what we want even if it seems crazy. It may not work out but if you get your happy ending, all the better, right?" She turned to him as if searching for something more to say on the matter. The words stalled on her lips.

Their gazes met, suddenly charged and weighted. This look of determination filled her expression and before he could process her intentions, her lips were on his, warm and pressing.

The contact caused a flare of lust to ignite and spread through him like the first shot of a good Georgia whiskey. It was a shock to his system, one he didn't know how to handle. Michonne was sexy and powerful and so amazing to him. He was this gruff loner with a tough exterior meant to keep everyone at arm's length. But as she unleashed her attraction for him, he felt more like an adolescent boy again, hormones raging and not a lick of sense on how to use them.

His intake of breath as he reigned in his response to her also served to distance him from her touch. She instantly backed off, eyes downcast.

"I'm sorry. I …" She shook her head and refused to look at him. "I … I read that wrong, didn't I?" His stunned silence stretched between them. She grabbed their empty beer bottles, knocking one over and fumbling with it before getting a solid hold. She also picked up the pizza box and quietly slipped away to the kitchen.

Daryl flopped back into the couch, paralyzed by excited hormones and the surprise of her making a move on him. He'd been pushing down his attraction to her because he thought nothing would ever come of it. She was successful and she was one of the few people he knew who had her shit together. Even if she was friendly, there was no way she'd be into a guy like him, living on the margins with nothing much to show for life; spending most of his time wandering around the back country with his asshole brother and keeping up with their struggling business. He wasn't a man used to holding out hope for good things like her to come his way.

But now that something had happened and she'd made the first move, he'd screwed it up before he could even take hold of it. He covered his face with his hands and cursed himself for being such a coward.

TBC ...


	5. Fully Retractable

**Chapter Five**

Since leaving a stricken Daryl in the den area, Michonne's disgust at herself was a pulsing anxiety that hardened in her chest and soured her stomach. She placed the beer bottles and pizza box on the counter and covered her face with both hands as she attempted to collect herself.

Maybe it was the alcohol or her stressful day, although both were poor excuses for her behavior. She'd made a fool of herself with Daryl and probably sabotaged a relationship she valued. It'd been so long since she'd felt like she could relax with someone the way she did with him. She'd gotten so caught up in everything—his sexy ruggedness and effortless charm made all the more powerful for his obliviousness to it. But just because he was attractive and had been so kind to her, it didn't mean she could jump him when her inhibitions were feeling fuzzy. All the inside jokes and the favors, the phone calls and shared amusements? They were fun distractions but nothing more to him.

What was worse than the rejection was how uncomfortable she'd made him. Her disappointment didn't trump the recognition that she owed him an apology for that.

By the time Daryl stepped into the kitchen five minutes later, probably to awkwardly take his leave, she'd rinsed the bottles and thrown them in the recycling bin and also put away the leftover pizza. Although she'd calmed down a bit, the embarrassment lingered as well as the fear that she'd lost a friend. She stood over the sink, staring out the window with her hands clenched around the edge of the countertop. It wasn't like her to run from what needed to be done. Yet as she heard him shuffle quietly towards her, she couldn't bring herself to face him.

Hovering behind her, she could feel the tension at her back as both she and Daryl fought to address this rift.

He murmured at her shoulder, "About before? You didn't, you know."

Confused, she turned, questioning.

"I mean, no, you didn't read it wrong. This time you got it all right. It's just…" His eyes darted away as he searched for the words to explain himself. "It's just I got scared. I never thought you'd feel like I did." As he said this, he slipped in behind her and took her hands, extracting them from their grip on the counter and rubbing the tension out. The strain in her eyes mirrored the panic in his but his resolve suggested that he wouldn't back off from his attraction either. His own fear of rejection made his hold on her feel shaky and uncertain but the way he leaned into her when she swiveled to face him told another story.

Michonne's eyes softened at his admission. "I did kind of spring it on you." He took her hands again and continued to rub circles in them.

"I thought about doin' that a million times with you and then you beat me to it and I lose my shit." He chuckled at the situation. "And I was afraid I'd start pawin' on you like a fifteen year old kid in the back of his dad's pickup truck. But you ran off 'fore I could say my peace on it. Don't know why I gotta always get on you for bein' so stubborn."

She looked away for a moment, smiling. "Well, I wouldn't go that far since I usually end up winning anyway."

Daryl tugged at her arm to get her attention. "Not this time." He brought his lips to hers and allowed himself to sink into the warmth of her mouth and the ways their bodies automatically fit together like pieces in a puzzle. Hip slid along abdomen, fingers intertwined; hearts pounded into each other as the contours of his torso gently pressed against the soft roundness of her breasts. He released her hands and she moved them to his chest while he chose to reach up and cradle her face as he tasted her. The relief and reignited desire at his attention had her melting into him further.

Finally, her tongue coaxed its way into his mouth and she registered the deep rumble of pleasure it elicited from him. He hardened against her and Michonne's whole body throbbed at this reaction from him. Embarrassed, he tried to place some space between his arousal and her body.

"Oh no you don't." His acceptance of her had made her bold. She grabbed onto his hips, grinding into him. She'd had too many fantasies of this to deny herself the benefits to the reality of it.

Daryl gasped at her forwardness and plunged his fingers into her hair. "Tried to warn you."

His steady climb towards that point of total surrender to her made her smile into his kiss as they devoured each other. She yearned for him to explore her underneath her thin clothes and move his mouth to other parts of her. She wanted to undress him and do the same, expose him enough so he could squeeze inside of her; plunge into her with a rhythm so powerful and consuming that she'd call out his name in reverence.

They released each other, breathing heavily and processing this new intimacy. He dropped his hands from her hair and stroked at her sides. She initiated the reverse as she traced the line of his cheek before running her fingers through his hair. She wondered if this was going too fast. Her body wanted him so badly but was it a good idea to take this further? She wasn't looking for a boyfriend, even one as sweet and uncomplicated as Daryl; she was pretty sure he felt similarly. And she had Andre to think of too.

But she'd come on to him, without reservation. She'd experienced the despair of disappointment to his perceived rejection and the elation of realizing her instincts had been correct all along. She was the one looking him intensely in the eye with hunger and passion on her mind.

And he was not intimidated. If anything he was more aroused than she. She dove back in for more.

Before he even thought to control himself, he'd gotten two solid handfuls of her backside and lifted her in his arms. She squealed which was a bit embarrassing but unavoidable. And it made him smile, a rare glimpse of genuine joy that intensified her attraction.

"Never thought I'd hear a sound like that come outta your mouth. Wonder what else you got in you."

Michonne's expression darkened with mischief. "Why don't we find out." That was the last bit of playfulness before she grabbed a chunk of his hair and guided his mouth to hers once again.

Over the next few minutes, she steered him through her house, up the stairs and into her dim bedroom where he gently placed her back on the ground, sliding her shirt from her body as he retreated. She went in for his pants and he threw his own shirt across the room. She noticed that he was too much in the moment to worry about the scars on his back. She'd felt them through his shirt and her heart broke a little for him. But she was glad for his distraction because she wanted him focused on the present with her and not past demons. And she wanted to keep it that way.

She unzipped him and trailed her fingers against his erection to tease. That earned her a smack on the ass, making her laugh as she squirmed away from him. It was starting to seem as if he had a particular fascination with that part of her body.

"Oh now you tryin' to get shy on me," he said, reaching for her again. "You was whistling a whole n'other tune a minute ago when you jumped me on that couch."

He kicked off his shoes and let her ease his pants down before she pushed him onto her bed. "I'll show you shy." She quickly stripped off her skirt and crawled onto the bed after him, unhooking her bra as she straddled him. He raised up on his elbows to get a better look at her while she continued to shed her clothes.

When she freed herself from the confines of her lacy underwear, she marveled at the way his mouth hung open, suggesting a genuine hunger for her. With a swift movement, he lifted himself even higher to encircle her and roughly palm the swell of her breasts. He rolled her nipples until they peaked and dimpled and then dipped his head to let his tongue stimulate her as his fingers had seconds before. She squeezed at his hair painfully in response, arching into the wet contact and allowing him to claw at the curve to her back.

All the while, she slid herself against his hardness. The friction taunted them both and she let the tightness in her groin overwhelm her.

"So are we gonna do this, Dixon," she challenged, breathing heavily as she held tightly to him.

He trailed kisses up her neck until he was nipping at her ear. He murmured to her, "You bet we gon' do this." Flipping her over, he shed his final stitch of clothing and covered her body with his.

She thought sex with him would be frantic and primal, but they went slow and built to a vigorous rocking of bodies as they indulged themselves in each other. She also assumed he wouldn't be one for foreplay, straightforward guy that he was. Yet once he saw the advantages to it, the vocal and reciprocal reactions from her, and the encouragement she offered, he was all in. The way he would tentatively ask if his touches were okay, unsure of his own abilities to please her in such a manner, deepened her affection for him.

During a quiet interlude of mutual and agonizingly slow stimulation, she uttered a question aloud as it suddenly came to her. "Are you always this good?" A deft flick of his thumb caused her to gasp and then whimper into the back of her hand.

Through the hazy curtain of lust, he looked up at her with a surprisingly serious expression. "Wanna enjoy you is all." Running her fingers in his hair, she then caressed his cheek at the shy reveal and leaned over to kiss him.

They offered themselves freely and, in turn, took what they wanted as they battled together for release. He silently kept her cadence, trying to hold onto himself as her pleadings and moans urged him to meet her for every stroke. She discovered a relentless and determined compulsion to satisfy him so completely that he'd never forget the extremes of pleasure that they were capable of.

She'd certainly committed the experience to memory already.

With some diligent effort and a stamina that impressed and surprised her, Daryl held off until he heard his name savagely escaping her throat. At the threshold of his own release, he monitored her orgasm, coaxing wave after wave of convulsions that echoed throughout her body. In just those few seconds, he managed to steal her breath, scatter her thoughts and diminish all control over her motor functions beyond operation. He followed right after at the sight of her blissful response to him.

Oh yes, he was that good. But together they were incredible.

As the last reverberations faded, they lay next to each other, Michonne on her stomach and Daryl on his back with an arm splayed over his eyes. They breathed deeply into the warm night. The minutes passed in silent leisure.

After a while, he lifted his free arm and let it rest at her back. "You want me to leave?" he asked, cautious and guarded. The rise and fall of his chest revealed the sheen of sweat drying quickly as his body cooled; his hair was savagely tousled and she could detect the satisfied flush in his face. And the hesitation. His past demons weren't as far away as she thought.

But him leave this bed? What an absurd thought.

Michonne sighed into her pillow, full of contentment. "Now why would you do a thing like that? What if I wanted another piece of you in the morning?" Her hair lay loose along her dark back and Daryl peeked from under his arm to track the movement of each tendril sliding along her shoulder as she turned towards him. His hand remained resting at her side. The shift exposed more of her slick flesh that she craved for him to again suckle and pierce with his teeth.

A discrete grin played at his lips. "I'd say you sound like my kind 'a woman."

He removed his arm from over his eyes to take her in fully, the dusky shadows flowing over her naked curves and hair now haphazardly spread across the pillow as she watched him. When she tilted her head to rest more comfortably next to him, his eyes followed the hollow of her neck suggesting his own craving to nestle into her once more.

It was crazy. She hadn't known him a few months ago and here she was, practically tripping over all her fears and triggers to keep him close. Before the protests even arose, she was making excuses to keep him in this bed with her. Daryl reached up and awkwardly stroked her cheek, his stiff fingers memorizing the way she took in his self-consciousness yet intimate gesture.

"What if I want another taste 'a you right now," his gravelly voice offered with that soft grin.

A different kind of fear arose, one that knew how easily that grin could have her at his mercy. She covered his hand at her cheek, lifting it so she could tug at his limp, lazy arm.

"Then I'd say, get over here, Dixon." He wasted no time in complying.

* * *

An hour after Daryl left, her phone buzzed and his text confirmed that he'd discovered the wad of bills she'd tucked into a side pocket on his pants. She'd planted the money he'd returned earlier while he took a quick shower before heading out.

She cracked a broad smile upon reading the text:_ I feel cheap and dirty now. _

Too easy, she thought as she tapped in a reply: _Nothing cheap about u and I like u dirty._

A moment later he returned_: Will have 2 come back over and show u what a favor looks like._

Michonne laughed and also warmed to think of the possibilities:_ Looking forward to it. Good help's hard 2 come by. But u know I play 2 win. _

The idea of an ongoing challenge between the two of them was enough to keep the satisfied smile on her face for a while. The whole thing probably wouldn't go anywhere with them coming from such different worlds but she was going to have a little fun while it lasted.

What was the harm in that?

TBC ...

* * *

**_AN: Sorry for the previous cliffhanger. It was actually unintentional. I just could not get this thing edited before I conked out last night. But I think it's improved with fresh, daytime eyes. Much love to y'all for the reviews and for hanging in there through my rude posting practices. _**


	6. Soft Serve

**Chapter Six**

Their casual treatment of that night they spent having extraordinary sex lasted all of a week.

Michonne called Daryl up and practically demanded that he march himself back to her house and into her bed. There were no complaints from him as she'd been on his mind every day they'd been apart. He replayed each detail of their encounter, the things he'd meant to do, the things he'd do again if given the opportunity. When he found himself wrapped back around her body, he let every fantasy he had play out as if time were going to run out on him and his window of opportunity would close forever.

To folks on the outside, they were the opposite in every way. But when they were together, he felt like they connected instinctively. Her darkened limbs drifted over his pale firmness like their bodies were made for doing just that.

_Michonne slid her leg against his and continued to stare out of the window from where she lay next to him. It was mid-morning and they both had things to do but couldn't bring themselves to get out of bed just yet. _

_"You know, I don't _have_ to organize my cases today. I could always do it in the morning before work. Why don't you ask Merle to take your shift and we can spend the rest of the day keeping each other company?"_

_Daryl trailed his roughened fingers along her naked hip. He'd convinced her to spend the night out at his place. The sounds of their lovemaking had blended peacefully with the gentle and remote nature surrounding them. __"__You aint tired 'a me yet, woman?"_

_"I'm just getting started." She stopped his hand and pulled him on top of her. "I can write you a note for Merle if you like. 'Please let Daryl have the day off so he can spend the rest of the afternoon rocking my world. Kind regards, Michonne.'" _

_Laughing, Daryl settled himself on top of her. "Rockin' your world, huh. I can damn sure handle that." _

_Michonne brushed the hair from his eyes and pecked him on the lips. "Good. Buckle up, then." He smiled down at her and swooped in to deliver on the offer._

The honeymoon phase of sex and good times lasted a while, longer than either expected. There were no expectations that they'd make things formal between them or take their encounters to another level. They were just having a good time.

Over the span of a few months, he got to know every square inch of her body and how to make each part of her sing. She'd made it her personal mission to get him to forget himself when they were together. And he did because she always got what she wanted. He forgot his scars and his troubles with Merle or any outside differences between them.

There was only her.

* * *

Michonne knew something had changed for them when she'd gotten into a minor incident at work with a client but didn't tell Daryl about it right away. Instead, she'd called her ex first and it had pissed Daryl off something fierce. Or rather, she'd called Andrea and then she'd called her ex because the whole ordeal had made her late picking up Andre. But the point was that she hadn't called him until the next day and it didn't even come up until well into their conversation.

She'd picked up on his anger instantly and their flirty precursor to a weekend tryst become a painful discussion about whether they were going to actually make a go of a normal relationship or just keeping fucking each other without strings.

_"What is it you're saying, Daryl? Spell it out for me because I can't read your mind." She got that he was annoyed but he was so damn hard to read and she didn't know what he wanted from her._

_There was silence on the line, either because he was frustrated or because he was still trying to figure out how to express himself. When he finally spoke, it was with a voice raw and strained with emotion. "Don't seem right you can call me up to fix your car or scratch your itch but you can't drop me a line when you almost get your ass killed."_

_"You know that's not how it is with us." Even as she said it, she felt guilty for having him think she was just using him. It wasn't like that at all. "__And it wasn't that bad a situation," she deflected. "I wasn't hurt and I'm fine._

_His reply resonated with truth and sorrow. "Don't matter. It coulda been worse and I woulda been left out in the cold. Like always."_

The entire time they'd been fooling around, she figured the sex and good times were all he wanted; that given his history with women, a relationship was too much to ask, something that made him uncomfortable whenever it was hinted at. But she'd been wrong. Although it was like pulling teeth and lacked any sense of romance, he let her know that he wanted more. And she finally admitted to herself that she did too but had settled for what she thought he could handle.

It was a rocky start but it was a start nonetheless.

* * *

Daryl learned that having a girlfriend who was so different from him wasn't always an easy thing. Merle gave him shit over Michonne all the time to the point of driving a subtle but ever-present wedge between the two of them. It was sometimes hard to socialize with their lifestyles being worlds apart, not to mention the physical distance between his place and hers. They'd spent so much time holed up in bed together or spending quiet weekends with only each other for company that the idea of being more high profile about things often made him anxious.

One of the ways they dealt with it was to spend more and more time with their mutual friends. He'd introduced her to his buddy Rick who was a sheriff from the next county over. They were another unlikely duo but it turned out that she and Rick got on like long lost packmates, his son too. She even tolerated his wife Lori who could be a total buzzkill and Rick's other friend Shane who tagged along sometimes. Michonne didn't care too much for him, and neither did Daryl, truth be told, but they never got into it or anything. Carol approved of Michonne also and she was a hard woman to please. He'd been on the rough end of her scrutiny often enough in his time.

Though they bickered like children, he also continued to hang out with her friend Andrea along with T-Dog and Glenn, all of whom lived closer to Michonne but still on the outskirts of the city. They created themselves a nice little social circle that Daryl, usually a loner, had come to enjoy. Merle hated it, of course, but he'd backed off after a while, seeing as how all his new friends also brought in a good amount of business for their little shop.

_"Ugh, you guys are getting gross," Glenn said as he put his arm around his girlfriend Maggie._

_Daryl rolled his eyes at the young man. "Look who's talkin'. Aint been a time since I known you that you don't bring up your girl at least five times an hour." Although Glenn looked embarrassed, Maggie's beaming face suggested she'd reward him later._

_"What are y'all talking about?" Michonne asked, scooting in next to Daryl with their drinks. Rick, Carol and Andrea all turned their gazes to him, curious._

_Daryl squirmed under all the attention. Instead of shrugging it off, he put is arm around Michonne. "Aint nothin' goin' on. Glenn's just pissed 'cause he aint the only one got a girl to brag on no more." He kissed her on the side of the head, ignoring her surprise. The way she squeezed his thigh told him he'd done something right. He'd be getting his reward too._

Daryl thought the differences between him and Michonne would weigh them down and hold them back but it never did. Rather, he found himself steadily falling for her and it was terrifying but amazing.

* * *

It was a long time before Michonne would let him hang out with her son. She was so protective of him. But after a while, she just couldn't keep the little guy away. He'd been fascinated with Daryl since way back to that first meeting when Daryl had patiently shown him that engine. It was just scary for Michonne to let her child get so close to this new person, knowing that he may not be around someday if things didn't work out. She didn't want him getting too attached. Daryl was understanding about the situation.

And she realized it wasn't entirely about Daryl but her own fears of getting too close to him, of being so vulnerable that it would cut her to the bone if he broke her heart. Yet she was discovering that Daryl wasn't that kind of guy.

_"Hey, little man. You gon' share that toy there?" Andre giggled and shook his head, snatching the miniature car from the pile. "What am I gon' drive then?" Andre pointed to the little truck off to the side. "Good call," Daryl responded. Michonne watched from the doorway and smiled._

_"We gonna race," Andre said. "Vroom. Gonna beat you, Daryl."_

_"No way, kid. Not in my fast truck." They scooted their cars around the patio and Daryl pretended to catch up and pass the little boy before hanging back and trailing Andre's sports car over the finish line. The little boy cheered himself and Daryl feigned devastation._

_Michonne came outside to join the two guys who were getting on like a house on fire. "Can I play or is it boys only?" Daryl opened his mouth to shoo her away but Andre immediately grabbed his mother's arm and brought her to the starting line of their pretend racetrack. He handed her his car and picked out a motorcycle from his toy box for himself. She flashed Daryl a smug smirk._

_"Hey, why can she play with your car and I can't?" Daryl pouted. "She aint even as good a driver as me."_

_Michonne scoffed. "Says you."_

_Andre broke out in chuckles at their faux-argument. "'Cause Mama's good, Daryl. She's fast!" _

_Daryl glanced her way again and winked over the boy's head. "She sure is, aint she?" Michonne playfully slapped him in the arm and pushed him out of the way. She lined her car up next to her two boys and prepared for the race._

The exterior may present a rough around the edges redneck rogue but Daryl was loyal and loving in his own way. The people he cared about got the best from him and she was always so gratified to be the one he chose to share that with. When she decided to break down the ultimate barrier and allow him to be a part of her and Andre's lives, seeing them together so content and compatible, she knew that she'd made the right decision.

* * *

The fighting started gradually, first over petty things and then turned more serious. They were both under a lot of stress with their respective situations. Merle's brashness had caused problems with their business that Daryl was finding difficult to clean up. Michonne's job experienced budget cuts and she was busier than ever while also still struggling to balance work and motherhood with a marginally cooperative ex.

_"It's like I can't do anything right with you. I work too much, I don't make time for you, I don't care enough. Daryl, I have too much on my plate to babysit your sensitive feelings all the time." She tried not to slam the dishes into the dishwasher out of irritation. _

_He paced behind her like a caged animal. He was free to leave, of course, but she had a pull that kept him from running off. Normally, he loved that about her but right now it made him feel weak. Powerless. _

_"Hey, I aint no child. All's I ever want is for you to try and you can't even do that half the time these days. I got shit goin' on too. As if you give a damn about that." _

_Michonne stopped what she was doing and took a deep breath before she broke something. "You know that's not true. Just like you, I do the best I can."_

_"Well, your best is pretty shitty lately." He walked out of the room and out the door. Maybe getting some air would do him good._

Following months of sniping and blowouts, Daryl decided he was done with it all. He'd spent his entire life fighting with people who were supposed to love him. She'd been the one to tell him he deserved better.

After he'd called things off, it didn't take long for him to recognize why he still felt so empty and angry. Yet his pride and his fear had him sticking by his decision. Besides, there was no way she'd take him back after he screwed everything up. Best to let her go to be with someone good enough for her rather than a man like him who'd just fuck things up at every turn and then cut out. That's all a Dixon was good for.

He'd been mostly alone before he met her and he could do it again.

* * *

Michonne heard from Andrea who'd heard through the grapevine that Daryl was dating some pretty, young blonde he'd probably met at a bar while out getting into trouble with Merle. Michonne didn't know if that was true but she did know that he'd been seen hanging out with their friend Carol a lot more, a woman who'd known Daryl before her and who she thought always had an eye for Daryl even though he denied it. Rick had hinted the Daryl had been keeping tabs on her too, even questioning whether Rick himself had designs on her since his split with Lori the previous year. She missed Daryl but he was the one who'd left. And he'd obviously moved on to someone safer and easier than being with her. It hurt.

_"He's just confused is all," Rick tried to explain as they watched Carl hover over first base. It was a nice day to catch a little league game and Rick's son was doing well for himself. _

_"It doesn't matter, Rick. It's done. I wish you guys would stop bringing it up." Andrea was the worst but she thought Rick would be above idle gossip about her ex, even though he was good friends with the man too, close to him in a different way than with her. _

_"Maybe we keep bringing it up because we see something you don't. Y'all are just being stubborn but anyone can see that you're still hung up on each other."_

_Michonne sighed. She did not need him getting her hopes all stirred up like this. It wasn't fair. "Has he said anything to you about it?" Silent, Rick looked away. It was answer enough. "Well, then let it go. We certainly have." But even as the words left her lips she knew it wasn't really true. If she wanted to move on, she'd have to try harder._

She went on a few lackluster dates: Mike, her old friend from college who shared her love of art and liked to agree with anything she said. He was boring but nice. Safe. She'd hooked up with her friend Sasha's brother, Tyreese, also a nice guy who she had a lot in common with. But he'd been getting over an ex too so they'd decided to just stay friends. And although she and Rick had gotten closer in the weeks and months after she and Daryl fell apart, they both knew that they couldn't go there for the sake of a lot of things.

And all the while, her heart ached for Daryl, just as she dreaded.

* * *

It was Michonne who made the first move to reach out. She'd driven out to see him on a Sunday afternoon when she knew he'd be at the shop as Merle slept off his raucous Saturday night. Even from the beginning, she'd known him so well and it had made him fall in love with her. He tracked her with guarded eyes as she stepped out of her car and approached him. At first she didn't say anything. Then she'd offered a shy smile and greeting and he'd returned it, feeling the distance between them retreat a little.

Then she'd moved to take him in her arms. She held him so tightly and, before he could censor himself, he was holding her back. She whispered that she missed him and that she didn't care about what happened before, she just wanted another chance because they'd been good together. Relief flooded him and he palmed her face before kissing her softly, touching her as if she'd drift away if he didn't handle her with care. And truly that's what he feared.

_"It's the first time thing's have felt right for a while. I know it's 'cause 'a you bein' here like this." Michonne curled up tighter into his side and closed her eyes to the sensation of him stroking her shoulder. "Shouldn't 'a given up so easy."_

_She squeezed him and kissed into his neck. "Neither of us should have. But we're here now and things can be different."_

_Peeking down at her, he lifted her chin and kissed her lips, a succulent and lingering gesture as they lay side-by-side. When he released her, he smoothed her hair and looped a leg around her to keep her close. "Damn right."_

They didn't jump right back into things but they talked more, got out in the open all the little grievances that had fed into their split. Before long he was spending passionate nights and leisurely days with her just like old times. Yet something was different, something important and neither knew how to handle that.

* * *

They kept up their renewed relationship until the old annoyances started rearing their heads again. Instead of ignoring the problems though they talked them out, a difficult process for Daryl but one that he committed to because there was no other way to make things better between them. For that she was thankful.

As things escalated, they both dreaded the inevitable, the fork in the road where they had to decide what they wanted this to be between them. They took to the highway on Daryl's motorcycle for a change in scenery, hoping that some new surroundings—and a first-time vacation for Daryl—would make a difference. They spent the weekend taking walks, and sitting in silent company. And all the while the weight of what they really needed to reconcile hung between them.

_"I aint never had to deal with nothin' like this. I just want you to know I'm tryin'._

_Michonne took his hand again as they strolled the historical neighborhoods in the bright night. She huddled next to him for the extra warmth as the evening had turned cold. "I see that. We just have to be prepared to make some hard choices. I want you in my life. I know that. But I want us to be healthy about it. I don't want there to be regrets. I've had enough of that already and I'm always scared Andre's gonna suffer for it."_

_Daryl nodded. "I don't wanna hurt him. Or you. Only want the best for both 'a you, babe."_

_She released his hand and put her arm around his middle, sensing him likewise drape himself around her shoulders. "Me too, Daryl. Me too." She sighed and let the night swallow them up again as they kept pace together out of habit. _

Michonne listened as Daryl laid out his concerns in blunt terms. She let the words settle in, always unsure if there was anything more she could do to be what he truly needed. He loved her but he didn't want to fight with her. He'd rather have her as a friend and family than spend any part of his life hating her because they couldn't make a romantic relationship work.

She tried to be honest with him as well and share her personal truths to give him something to ponder too. With Andre to think of, there was always more to her decisions than what made her happy or felt good. There was what was best for him and the more time they spent spinning their wheels about a relationship, the more she questioned whether she was doing right by her little boy. Yes, her son adored Daryl and so did she but they didn't have to be lovers to be family.

She took his hand as they sat together feeling like intimate strangers at best. Neither was sure of where the future would find them when they returned home. But time was almost up and their crossroads was looking more and more like an ending to what they'd come to know and cherish.

TBC ...


	7. Circles

**Chapter Seven**

Like on so many occasions before, Daryl pulled up to her house on his motorcycle to find her digging through her tool kit, again fixing something she'd started without him. More than likely, he was wondering when she'd ever keep herself out of peril. Michonne didn't turn at his approach into the garage. Surely, she wouldn't have to wait too long for a smart-ass comment. He could never resist a dig at her expense when it came to home repairs

"What'd you do this time?" he accused, leaning against the workbench her toolkit sat upon. The repair in front of her was probably not what he expected to greet him. After all, he thought he was simply coming over for a nice, quiet afternoon of pizza and baseball.

Michonne pulled out her favorite screwdriver and frowned as she dug further into the metal container. "Andre's bike got banged up after school yesterday," she replied, absently. She pulled out a repair kit and walked over to where the bike was displayed. She'd flipped it over to make it easier to work on and she could already sense Daryl's disapproval of her progress.

"Really?" Daryl crossed his arms in irritaton as Michonne settled herself on a milk crate to more comfortably work on the bike.

"Really, Daryl. I don't need you to do everything for me, you know." She could tell that he was itching to step in. Yet despite how much help he'd been since they'd met, he'd learned when not to press his luck with her.

Daryl kept his distance, watching her like some kind of test proctor or overseer. Michonne thought it was more funny than offensive given how antsy it made him to be on the sidelines. She first tested out the chain on the bike and reattached it around the gear that had loosened somehow.

"So what have you been up to?" Michonne asked as she worked. She knew about a couple of things he had going on: he and Merle were building onto their shop to better handle their expanding business. And just last week, Rick had been telling her a few funny stories about Daryl's newest stint as his assistant coach for Carl's little league baseball team. Daryl had been roped into it, complaining that it should be enough that D+D Auto Body shop was sponsoring the team. They both knew he secretly loved it though.

Daryl shrugged. "The usual. You know how it is."

"Yes, I do," she responded, distracted. He was being careful with his words and she frowned in annoyance at that, hoping he'd think it was just frustration over the bike.

Although he continued to scrutinize her, he didn't comment on her mood. Rather, he countered, "What you been up to?"

She moved her attention to the wheel and he nodded in approval that she'd already removed the inner tube and stuck in tiny pins for the holes she needed to patch. "The usual," she responded, flashing him a smirk. He rolled his eyes at her. "Besides the bike emergency, there's not much going on. I don't have to go to trial next month since I pled out my client on Wednesday. I'm still pretty tired though. It was a long week." Upon hearing that, it appeared as if he wanted to comment but her glare prompted him to reconsider. Silently, she continued to repair the minor fix and then stood up so she could maneuver the tube back into the outer tire.

That's when she ran into problems.

Michonne groaned inwardly with every minute that passed without success. Daryl continued to stare at her, growing more and more smug. She recognized that look but was determined not to succumb to it.

She hoped conversation would distract him from how badly she was screwing up this last part of her task. "Well, I hope you're ready for some disappointment because today's game will probably be a blowout. I'm glad you could make time to check up on us though. The game will be miserable but at least the company will be good."

The lighthearted response she'd been going for didn't happen. The intensity of his stare deepened. "You know I'm always gon' make time for y'all."

Michonne tried not to let his attention bother her otherwise she'd get herself worked up over probably nothing. Instead, she redoubled her efforts and grunted in frustration when the tube slipped again and popped out of alignment. That's when Daryl stepped forward.

"Woman, move outta the way," he said, chuckling. His hands gently took the tube from her, a respectful acquisition, and Michonne marveled at how smoothly he went about fixing up the tire like he did it every day and in his sleep.

She was a little put out by his display but she grinned at him over it anyway. "You're still a handy guy to have at my disposal. I can probably rustle up some cash for your trouble, stash it in your pocket like old times."

Daryl playfully pushed at her shoulder as he grabbed her tools and supplies and returned them to the tool chest. "I'd like to see you try. 'Sides, aint no charge for gettin' to show you up again. Except for the beer and pizza, which better have pepperoni on it and not that grilled chicken crap like last time."

"Get over it. I was experimenting. And when you're the one to order and pick up the pizza then you can pick the toppings. If not, then hush up and take what you get."

Michonne examined the tires and gears and Daryl stared her down as if challenging her to try flipping the bike over again. He shook his head. "You sure are stubborn today." The bike wasn't very big but his insistence further amused her. He placed the bike back to its rightful direction and tested out their repairs. When everything seemed to check out, he followed her into the house, closing the garage as he went.

One of the first sights to greet them was Andre sitting at the kitchen table drawing some kind of elaborate structure in various colors. When he looked up to find Daryl trailing his mother into the kitchen, he broke out in a smile that came straight from her.

"Hey Daryl!" The little boy waited for the older man to wash his hands and then held his little palm up for a high five.

"What's up 'Dre?" Daryl said, peeking over his shoulder at the drawing. "What you got there?"

Andre pushed the drawing closer to where Daryl was standing. "It's a treehouse like in my TV show we used to watch."

"He's been telling me a great story about this treehouse. I'm sure you might have some thoughts on it, Mr. Fix-It." Daryl waved off the sarcasm. Instead of responding to her sass, he turned back to the little boy who was now eyeing him with further curiosity.

Before he could get any further information on Andre's grand project, his phone rang in his pocket. Daryl's brow furrowed at the number but he answered it anyway. Judging by his curt replies, it had to be his brother Merle on the other end. There was bound to be some drama involved, most likely, drama that was about to interrupt their afternoon plans. After a minute, Daryl left the room and Michonne figured Merle was going to get a piece of his mind. The echo of Daryl's raised voice off in the distance confirmed this.

Coming back in the room in a much fouler mood than when he left. Daryl walked over to where Michonne was putting away the morning dishes. "Hey, I gotta go watch the shop."

Michonne turned, disappointment clear. "But you just got here."

"I know but somethin' came up and we got stuff that needs doin' before tomorrow. Merle's drivin' out to Macon to get some parts we ordered so that means I gotta watch the shop."

She sighed and turned back to the row of cupboards, lining up the clean mugs as she put them away. "Well, okay then. I guess we can hang out some other time." They'd been planning this afternoon for a couple of weeks and it had been a little difficult given their schedules. But there was nothing to be done about the situation. Daryl remained at her side trying to figure out exactly how mad she was at him.

"Can we go out to the country today with Daryl, Mama?" Both adults turned to see the child intently listening in on their conversation.

Michonne's eyes softened as she considered his request. "Daryl's gotta work, Peanut. We shouldn't get in the way."

Andre glowered in that stern, determined way of his mother. "I won't be in the way. I'm not a baby."

"I know you're not a baby. I thought we were going to stay here and work on your treehouse stories this weekend?"

Turning around in his chair, Andre brightened. "I could do that at Daryl's too. And then he can show me the car stuff again."

Michonne glanced at Daryl as if requesting some help wrangling her child's expectations. One look at him, though, and she knew it was useless. "Wouldn't mind the company," he said to her, shrugging but with a conspiratorial wink towards the boy. "Feels like I aint seen y'all in forever and a day."

"It hasn't been that long, stop being dramatic," she chastised. She crossed her arms, annoyed by his easy surrender, especially when he was the one bailing on them in the first place. "If you want some company, you can always call Rick up and ask him to stop by."

Daryl shook his head. "Rick's workin'. Glenn too."

Michonne smirked and placed her hands on her hips. "And what about Carol? Isn't she your regular partner-in-crime now?" Turning back to the dishes, she moved on to putting away the silverware, gripping the knives extra firmly.

The implication of her statement made Daryl blush. He dropped his gaze and took a step away. But when he returned his attention to her, a spark of mischief filled his features. "You jealous?"

Scoffing, Michonne slammed the silverware drawer shut. "You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"I might," he murmured at her shoulder before grabbing the plates from the dishwasher and putting them away. She didn't like how he seemed entirely too self-satisfied at hitting some kind of chord, if only to call her out on her nosiness.

"Mama," a little whining voice called from the table. "Pleeeease."

"Pizza and baseball work just as well over there. I'll even turn the AC on so you won't have to rough it too bad in my ramshackle little garage. Can't say I don't pamper you, city girl that you are."

Michonne popped him in the arm with a dishtowel. He rubbed at the injury but laughed. He and Andre ganging up on her was so unfair. It was hard to deny her son such a simple request and she missed Daryl and had been looking forward to spending time with him. Staring at his relaxed face, alight with humor, she finally relented. "Fine. But now I definitely get to choose the pizza toppings this time."

"You got yourself a deal." They both heard Andre cheer and gather his supplies that were strewn across the table. "But don't make me regret lettin' you get your hands on that pizza."

"Too bad, Dixon. I'll do what I want. What are you gonna do about it?" He didn't answer but he paused to stare at her a moment and she caught the beginnings of a plan forming in his expression. Before she could further catalogue it, he turned away to help Andre collect his things.

She couldn't be certain but she got a sense that the man was up to no good. She didn't know whether to be concerned or excited.

TBC ...


	8. Soundtrack to Mary

**Chapter Eight**

Daryl looked up from his truck's engine to check on what Michonne was up to. Just as she'd been doing since right after they arrived, she sat inside the cool office at the side of the garage, feet propped up and still munching on pizza. He smiled at the sight of her and went back to his tinkering, his fretting over her mostly gone.

She was supposed to be keeping him company while he worked and then they would watch the baseball game together. But fifteen minutes into it, the muggy Georgia heat had her running for cover. At first he thought she was still mad about the switch-up and then siding with Andre to spend the afternoon at the shop. But it turned out she was just tired and not up for sitting around a steamy garage when she could be relaxing in the more comfortable office area.

Good thing he still had Andre in his corner. The little boy was sitting on a stool Daryl had gotten for him so that he could watch as Daryl worked. The little boy was always full of questions that Daryl patiently answered as best he could. By now, the kid had gotten kind of good at recognizing the tasks he would work on when he was under the hood. He and the kid were a solid team even if Michonne had bailed.

So it was turning into a nice afternoon even though he really hadn't planned to end up at the garage today. They were supposed to just relax at Michonne's house like old times. But when the circumstances changed on them, he knew he'd make the best of it. He glanced back over at Michonne.

Daryl felt around in his pocket to make sure he hadn't left anything lying around in the driver's seat of the truck. Seeing Michonne leisurely check something on her phone, he decided she'd had enough downtime and needed to get back to being his wingwoman.

"Hey 'Dre, go fetch you mom. Tell her I got somethin' for her to see."

Andre got down from his stool, being careful not to rush or he'd get a scolding from Daryl and probably his mother too when she found out. "What you gonna show her, Daryl? You already fixed everything." That kid was no fool. Daryl had noticed as soon as he'd arrived at her house and found her fixing that bike that the woman was testy today. And Andre wasn't trying to get on the unpredictable end of that on account of Daryl.

Smiling, Daryl ran a palm over the little boy's curly hair. "Don't you worry 'bout it, little guy. Just get her over here and you'll find out along with her." The boy threw him a skeptical look before shuffling off to wrangle his mother. In the meantime, Daryl went back to the driver's side and put the key in the ignition so he'd be able to start the engine with no fuss.

A few moments later, Michonne came strolling over, Andre's tiny hand leading the way. "This better be good, Dixon. If you're gonna mess around with this truck of yours rather than watch the game with me, then I demand that you leave me in peace."

"Aint much of a game last I checked the score." The Braves were getting destroyed, as expected. That's why he'd grabbed Andre and left the comfort of the cool office to go fiddle around with his truck. Well, that and a few other reasons. If he'd stayed in that room with her, he would have eventually made a fool out of himself, for sure.

Michonne was oblivious to it all though, or at least she seemed to be which was all the better. "Doesn't matter how terrible our team is," she shot back. "It's our game to enjoy. Without interruption." Her smirk could sometimes be infuriating but this time he found the petulance to be pretty funny. After all, he'd already convinced her to come out here so he figured he was on a roll when it came to persuading her today.

"Won't take long no way. Just need ya to start the engine for me."

Andre's furrowed brow caught Daryl's attention. "I could have done that," he pouted.

"I don't think so, kid," Daryl said before Michonne could protest. He stuck his lip out a little and Michonne laughed quietly behind the boy's back.

She stepped into the driver's seat as Andre got over his annoyance and returned to his stool. Michonne kicked over the engine and the truck roared to life without any trouble.

"Is that good?" she asked over the noise.

After a cursory inspection under the hood, Daryl peeked back around it to make eye contact with her. "It's good. Kill it." She powered down the car and sat for a moment as he came around to join her. Andre peered from his stool waiting to see what task was next.

"Grab them keys for me." Michonne did as he asked and just before handing them over, she glanced down at the keychain and froze. As her jaw dropped in shock, Daryl's grin widened, taking in her reaction to his little setup. She looked up at the satisfied expression he sported; he enjoyed seeing her eyes go wider as he got down on one knee, sun glaring off the two wedding bands dangling from his keychain.

"How 'bout you hand those over and tell me you aint changed your mind 'bout bein' Mrs. Daryl Dixon."

Who would have guessed when she'd sputtered up to his garage, that two and a half years later, he'd be at her feet requesting permission to be a permanent part of her life. Or that he'd be tripping over his words like one of those fools from those dumb romance movies she still makes him watch with her sometimes. Whoever would've planted that seed deserved a drink on him because he was thankful it had come to pass.

He'd never had much of anything to call his own, and nothing much good happened to him without a steep price being paid for the trouble. He'd gone from an angry kid hiding from his abusive father and asshole brother to wandering from spot to spot nearly drifting away, and finally to this drowning shack of a business Merle had won as payment off of a drunken loser with massive gambling debt. But Michonne was an unexpected force that just wandered into his life, first as an obligation, then as a friend and finally as a lover and partner.

For so long after he met her, for months after they became friendly, he'd expected nothing to come from their company for fear that she'd disappear. But she didn't.

When they broke up and he ached for her while feeling powerless to get her back. He'd written off his happiness as something he should never ever hope for. But instead, she'd held on.

She just got closer and closer to him until she was underneath his skin and pumping through his veins, giving him life as nothing ever had in his lonely, sad existence before.

Still on his knee, he marveled at how it wasn't too often that he could make this woman speechless. So even though his nerves were buzzing as he perched down on the ground, Daryl still got a kick out of the reaction. When Michonne got her wits about her again, he saw the glossy sheen of tears in her eyes and prepared himself for another one of her outbursts.

"Oh Daryl," she muttered. He cocked his head to the side, flashing her his usual expression of exasperation. Andre looked on, curious but excited, waiting on pins and needles to see what happened next. "Come here," she gestured.

Daryl rose to his feet and she pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around him and whispering 'yes' over and over again in his ear. At her shoulder, he beamed, so gratified to hear those words from her, not that he'd been too worried.

It's not like a proposal was entirely unexpected. They'd already agreed that they wanted to get married. Michonne had cut off any talk of surprising her with the proposal, calling it an "archaic act of patriarchal dominance." He'd grumbled about that, thinking it's what any decent guy should do for the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. She really could work his nerves with her 'modern woman' schtick sometimes. But it's what she wanted and he had to admit that it felt nice to make the decision together without a lot of pressure on him.

So they'd compromised. They agreed to talk about when the time felt right for that step in their relationship—and they'd done that a while back. But then he'd still get to surprise her with a proposal at any time he saw fit. She wouldn't need to see it coming so it was the best of both worlds. The only stipulation was that he didn't get her an engagement ring as she thought it was a waste of money. He couldn't find fault with that reasoning either, especially at this stage in their relationship.

Upon hearing about the engagement plans, their friends had called them the most practical and least fun odd couple on the planet.

Daryl had been holding onto those rings for a few weeks wondering how he could do things right and make her proposal memorable. He'd even broken down and asked Rick and Carol for advice on it since it's not like he had a whole lot of experience wooing a girl like that. Michonne never seemed to mind his lack of romantic experience which he was grateful for but on this, he wanted to do right by her because they'd fought hard to be together. She meant the world to him, both her and Andre.

Both of his friends suggested he keep it simple and there wasn't anything much simpler than proposing to her where it had all started for them.

"Did you think I'd change my mind?" she asked, pushing back from him. A few tears had fallen from her eye and he wiped them away, caressing her cheek as he did. "Although, I did reconsider when you ate that last piece of cake a few weeks ago." Her wry smile was met with a roll of his eyes.

"I wasn't worried. I already know that Dixon charm had gotten a hold 'a you."

They both chuckled at that. "What gave it away?"

Daryl dropped his hand from her cheek and let it trail down her shoulder to her arm and finally to her rounded abdomen where their daughter was nestled comfortably inside her mom, waiting to make her appearance in a few months time: little Marietta Dixon, named after the town where she'd been conceived and where he and Michonne had some of the most peaceful moments of their lives together.

When they'd ridden out on that vacation hoping to figure out where they were going with their relationship, he'd truly thought it was over for them. They'd agreed to be friends but to stop hurting each other by thinking they could surpass their differences and make a life together.

And then they slept on it and realized that they were both full of shit.

They were in love and love was hard but it was also worth fighting for. They'd woken up separate and alone and it felt terrible when it could have, instead, felt so good being together, even through the difficult patches. This time it was Daryl who made the first move; he crept into her bed and slid under the covers with her, taking her in his arms as she welcomed him fully. Then they'd made love as the sun came up and didn't leave the room until it was time to check out. It was no wonder Marietta came to be during that time.

"…Oh that," she responded, covering the hand the stroked her rounded stomach and pecking him on the lips. "I knew you were up to something but I love that you proposed here, Daryl, where it all started: Merle sleeping off a bender, the Braves being terrible and then the two of us in this truck, you being the good guy and me being the damsel in distress."

"More like you bein' a pain in my ass, makin' me act all chivalrous and shit."

"I didn't make you do anything. You were into it so don't even try it," she said, running her fingers through his hair. "And when we go camping and fishing and hunting with Andre and Marietta, you can tell them how you underestimated your wife's survival skills."

"Mmm. Like the sound 'a that," he rumbled into her ear, kissing the lobe as he retreated. He leaned in for a more thorough bit of affection but Andre's groan cut them off.

"You guys!" He'd patiently let them have their mushy time but he'd clearly reached his limit.

"Alright, little man, hands off." He stroked Michonne's stomach once more and then helped her down from the high passenger side seat. He led her to the front of the truck where Andre sat and reached around to cover the boy's eyes.

Andre giggled and clawed at Daryl's much larger hand. "Hey!"

With his other arm, Daryl pulled Michonne close and kissed her soundly, not a long kiss but a satisfying one. He let both of them go and swung the ring-adorned keychain around on his finger before returning it to his pocket.

"Now you can go back and watch your crappy baseball game. I got what I wanted outta you."

Michonne smacked him on the shoulder and then waved her hand to push cooler air into her face. "I think I will. Don't be too much longer. This city girl needs more pampering from her fiancé."

He noticed the fatigue in her eyes, both from her long week and her ill-advised activities from earlier with all the fixing and cleaning up around her house she'd done. He figured that's why she was so moody and stubborn, insisting on repairing Andre's bike and teasing him about Carol even though she knew there was nothing going on with her. They were all friends, after all. He'd get on her later about working too hard and worrying too much, especially during week's like this when he had to be away from her to take care of the shop renovations.

She gave him one last kiss on the cheek and delivered one to the top of Andre's head too, making him squirm with embarrassment. "And by the way, who said anything about taking your last name? I don't think that's one of the things we agreed on." He would have popped her one on the ass if she'd been closer since she knew how annoyed he was with her on that hanging issue.

"We got time yet for me to wear you down and I'm gonna on this. And if I catch you liftin' anything like back at the house, you gon' be in a world 'a trouble. I done told you about tryin' 'a do too much when you need to be takin' it easy for Marietta."

Michonne flipped him off. The gesture both amused and aroused him. She loved to remind him that she'd done this pregnancy thing before and he did know she'd never put their kid in danger by pushing herself too hard.

"I thought we'd established that I always play to win. Think about that as I get back to 'takin' it easy'. That was before you decided to interrupt with all the romantic overtures and the making me love you even more."

She disappeared into the cool office, not waiting for his counter. Soon he'd be stuck with her and her smart mouth, not only through marriage but with the birth of their child.

He couldn't wait.

He finished up work on his engine and had Andre help pack his things away so he could close up shop and get Michonne back home to celebrate. As he watched Andre join Michonne in the office and crawl into her lap, he took a moment to appreciate what would shortly be all his to enjoy officially.

Daryl thought to himself that being the good guy definitely pays off. She may be playing to win but he'd long ago received his prize.

_End_

* * *

_**AN: And that's that. I know it's all terribly sappy but I was in that kind of mood with these two. All chapter titles are credited to Soul Coughing which helped fuel my push to finish the story.**_

_**Thanks all for reading and much appreciation for the feedback and the support. It's going to be a long seven months so I'll try to keep the Dixonne muse active in the meantime.**_


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